


One pancake at a time

by MiraclesAfterDark



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, American pancakes, Angst and Feels, Australian pancakes Pikelets, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Bipolar Disorder, College, Developing Relationship, European pancakes, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, French crepes, Honestly I have no idea what I'm doing I'm just winging it, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Isak is an awkward boi ok, Isak is an unreliable narrator, Isak's gay panic, JUST, Japanese souffle pancakes, M/M, Magnus trying to be instagram famous, Mental Health Issues, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Movie Nights, Mutual Pining, Norwegian buttermilk pancakes Lapper, Oh and Also, Pancakes, Pining, Self-Denial, Unreliable Narrator, Y'all this is a Hot Mess, and add more tags, because, because this is important, breakfast food as symbolisms, but just a little bit angst, detailed description of breakfast food, don't take this seriously, i guess, just because, or at least that's what he told himself, pancakes from around the world, we'll see how this goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraclesAfterDark/pseuds/MiraclesAfterDark
Summary: “So. Isak. You are Isak, right?” Even asked.“Uh. Yeah, yeah.” Isak was sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter. Trying to remember how he usually arranges his limbs. Trying to sound casual, not too awkward or desperate. Trying not to stare at Even too much.He succeeded at none of those things.Or:College roommate au. Where Isak fell for his roommate, one pancake at a time.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim & Isak Valtersen, Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Comments: 14
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Shout out to [SleepyMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyMe) for the inspiration, if not for our pancakes-related conversations this wouldn't have exist <33
> 
> And also many thanks to Q for enduring my constant ramblings about characters she didn't know, from a show she hadn't watch (yet) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). 
> 
> This is so unbeta'ed. Feel free to scream at me in the comments about any mistakes you spot. Constructive criticisms are always welcomed. (Also if anyone is offering to beta the rest of this mess for me, I'll be eternally grateful :D) 
> 
> Anyway, this is basically just an excuse for me to write crack, fluff, pining Isak. And pancakes. Enjoy this hot mess y'all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak met his roommate for the first time.

Wednesday. 09:35.

Isak wasn’t sure how he ended here. Standing at the doorway of his dorm room, cladded in his old, ratty boxer, and a threadbare t-shirt he hadn’t washed in days. A literal angel standing in his face, beaming down at him.

“Halla. Is this Room 2121?”

Isak squinted his eyes. The boy in front of him was smiling, head slightly tilted. It was the kind of smile that is all sunshine and energy. Isak gave him a quick once over. He was slightly taller than Isak himself, swaddled in many layers, with a hood pulled over his head. Even through the layers of jackets, Isak could see he has the frame of a model, tall and lean, but not too built. A tuft of soft, blonde quiff sticking out from under his hood. 

In short, he was drop dead gorgeous.

_Fuck._

It was 9 am, Isak didn’t have class on Wednesday mornings, and he was too hungover to be this gay.

“Uhh.” Isak stared and stuttered, unsurprisingly graceless. Why was it suddenly so hard to construct a completed sentence?

“I’m sorry if I woke you.” The strange boy gave a small chuckle, eyes crinkled into twin half moons as he smiled. There was something compelling about his face that Isak cannot put words to. 

So, naturally, he stared some more.

"Are you gonna let me in?”

“Sorry. What did you say?” Isak dragged his hand down his face, trying to rub off some of the exhaustion from his face, too aware of how he probably looked like a panda with those dark shadows ringing his eyes. 

Oh, the contrast between the two of them. They must make a pretty funny picture.

“I am Even Bech Næsheim,” the strange boy- Even- quirked his eyebrows, probably amused at Isak’s floundering. “Your roommate?”

Oh. 

What the hell. Isak completely forgot about his roommate. The semester started weeks ago, and most students moved into their assigned dorm rooms by the end of the first week. Those who didn’t show up probably dropped out. Isak had figured he was one of the lucky few who got a room all to himself.

But apparently not. 

Not that he was complaining. 

Even said something about bringing the boxes in and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Isak scrambling to yank on his pants. 

Two seconds later, he re-appeared at the door, lugging a duffle and a brown box with him.

With only one leg in his jeans, Isak promptly misstepped and tripped over, faceplanting into the floorboards. 

_Shit._

For a long, stretched-out moment, Isak imagined, in vivid detail, flinging himself out of the windows. Like some devastated maiden trying to escape the clutches of their evil suiters in those fairy tales of old. Except the windows in his room were really small, and Isak was not so sure he could squeeze through. 

He would probably get himself stuck in the window frame.

“Are you okay?” To his credit, Even actually sounded genuinely concerned. 

Isak groaned, forehead still leaning against the wood planes of the floor, face burning in embarrassment, not brave enough to lift his head and look his new roommate in the eyes just yet. 

“Yeah. Just. I’m not really awake.” 

“Shame. I was going to bribe you into helping me move my boxes. With pancakes.”

Isak perked up. Even was smiling at him, somewhat apologetically, as if it was his fault that Isak made an idiot of himself. 

Isak could detect no lie, nor insincerity, from that angelic face.

“Okay. I’ll help,” he mumbled, heart feeling strangely light. 

He went to help Even with his boxes. 

* 

Even was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes. The radio was on, with some nameless, generic pop song playing in the background. 

“So. Isak. You are Isak, right?” Even asked. 

“Uh. Yeah, yeah.” Isak was sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter. Trying to remember how he usually arranges his limbs. Trying to sound casual, not too awkward or desperate. Trying not to stare at Even too much. 

He succeeded at none of those things. 

“Isak. What are you majoring in?”

“Biophysics.”

Even raised his eyebrows, “Ah, so I’m rooming with a genius. Good to know.”

Isak busied himself with his mug of coffee, trying to hide the flush in his cheeks. 

“Nei, nei! I mostly just rely on-- my friend, for the actual work,” He coughed out a dry laugh, “And you?”

“Film studies,” Even was now sprinkling chocolate chips into the half-cooked pancake batter. The kitchen is starting to waft with the mouth-watering smell of melted butter and chocolate. Isak couldn’t recall the last time this kitchen got properly used. He shared the kitchen with four other people, and none of them ever cook. Except for pots of coffee in the mornings. If that counted as _cooking_.

“Ah, so I’m rooming with a hipster. Good to know.” He smirked up from his mug.

Even grinned at him, eyes bright. Isak quickly looked away.

“This hipster may just teach you a few things about pop culture. You ever watched a Baz Luhrmann’s ?”

“Uhh-- Baz Luhrmann?”

“No way! You have never heard of Baz Luhrmann?”

“Nei! I’ve heard of it before. Baz Luhrmann. Baz Luhrmann?”

Even laughed, eyes crinkling, “I can’t believe you don’t know Baz Luhrmann! He is only, um, the best director ever.”

Isak tilted his head away in embarrassment, but couldn’t suppress the twitch of smile tugging at his lips.

“That’s okay,” Even hummed, while seamlessly flipping more pancakes onto the two plates that are quickly becoming the Leaning Towers of Pisa. “I shall educate you. You will be an uncultured heathen no more.” His hand movements with the frying pan were effortlessly familiar, as if he had done this a thousand times before. Making an ungodly amount of pancakes for two.

Isak briefly wondered if he had, in fact, done this countless times for a certain someone in his life, before hastily cut off that train of thought.

_Stop it._ He berated himself. Even is his roommate _goddamn it_. And he will be living in close proximity with Isak for the rest of the school year. The last thing he needed was to make things awkward between them.

“Ah-ha. I was wondering where these babies are,” Even whipped out two bottles of maple syrup with flourish, and Isak can’t help but find his antics unbearably endearing. Slowly and steadily, Even drizzled the syrup on top of the stacks, letting the clear, golden molasses drip down the sides.

Isak dug into his pancakes, while listening to Even drone on about Baz Luhrmann’s use of lurid colour palette in his framing narratives, and how he makes the most epic love stories, the ones where the main characters inevitably got killed off. The pancakes were ethereal. Every single bite was divine indulgence, the half-melted chocolate chips blending perfectly with the honey-sweet syrup. It was mouthful after mouthful of sinful, buttery delight.

Before long, the stacks of towering pancakes were devoured, and Isak had to leave for his lunch meeting with his project groupmates. Right before he left, he found himself promising Even to have a movie night soon, such that he can work on correcting Isak on all his ‘misconceptions’ about Hollywood cinema.

He hadn’t had a proper, hot meal for breakfast since forever, he reminded himself. He was sure the warmth in his chest was just the pancakes.

*


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak and Even broke into a building. Then Even cooked some pancakes.

Thursday. 04:22.

It had been a week since Even moved in. To Isak’s endless chagrin, they barely talked. Though not for a lack of trying, at least not on Isak’s part. He just never could catch him alone.

It was a hectic week for everyone. The kind of mid-semester week when all the professors simultaneously decide to have their students slave away at the library, write up fifty pages of research essays on inane subjects no one cares about. The time of the year when an average science student, like Isak himself, would have seven assignments for seven different professors respectively, all due within the same week. Parties had been a rare affair. All over campus, students were gathered in clutters, trying to cram for one thing or another, be it a test, or a group project. A rare display of studious attitude. Even Isak’s dormmates, who never seem to go to lectures, are scrambling to offer up their sanity as sacrificial lamb in exchange for a nondescript grade.

Hence why he had been pulling all-nighters in the kitchen with Linn and Eskild for the past few days.

The thing is, Isak had been intentionally keeping an eye out for his roommate’s presence, or lack of thereof, ever since the morning he cooked them pancakes. Even almost never stay at the dorms, let alone in their room. Not even at night. He briefly appeared for a few times during the day, but always leave in a rush, lugging that strange duffle bag with him.

_How suspicious._ Isak was starting to think that he might be the kind of creepy serial killer who strangles their roommates in their beds, and carry their corpses around for the edgy aesthetic. A hot one, yes. But still a serial killer.

The chime of his phone startled him out of his musings. Fuck, he really had to stop thinking about Even, no matter how hot, or creepy he was.

He glanced at his phone. It was a text from Magnus, yapping about this girl he met at a party last week. Or a few weeks ago. Whatever. Isak couldn’t even keep track of it anymore. As a freshman, he had been quick to learn that there is always a party happening somewhere on campus, which Jonas never fails to get them in. Showing up at parties once every two days, getting shitfaced-drunk, occasionally following someone back to their rooms had been fun. Making up for all the schoolwork he had been neglecting, was not.

Isak had been procrastinating his assignments since the second semester started, and now he had absolutely no hope of completing them all on time.

He groaned, thumping his head on the kitchen table, resting his forehead against the coolness of the granite. Maybe, if he closed his eyes for a few seconds, his brain would feel less like cotton candy dipped in hot tar-

“Hey, you good?”

Isak looked up. It was Even, leaning against the fridge, arms crossed. There was a blunt tucked behind his left ear. He was studying Isak intently.

Isak suddenly felt very much awake.

“Have you- been here the whole time?”

Even laughed. He sounded as sleep-deprived as Isak was. “No, I just got in. You really didn’t hear me?”

“No,” Isak mumbled, head ducked in embarrassment. Goddamnit. He couldn't seem to stop behaving like a brain-dead zombie in front of Even.

“Where’s Eskild and Linn? I thought you three are writing papers together?”

Isak sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, “No, they finished whatever it was they were doing. I’m still wrapping up this mess.”

Even glanced at his watch, “It’s four in the morning. Can’t you get some sleep and finish it up tomorrow?”

Isak slumped against his chair, “But I’m already late with this. The deadline is yesterday. The only chance for me to still get a decent grade out of this, is to hand it in tomorrow morning, and beg the old hag not to bump down my score.”

He winced at his own words, not looking forward to seeing the old hag in question. He should start making up some dumb excuses for his tardiness. Blaming Eskild for disturbing him at night sounded like a good one. It wasn’t too far off the truth, anyway. They had thin walls here, after all.

Even’s eyes widened a little, all trace of exhaustion suddenly gone from his face, “You said the deadline is yesterday, right?”

“Yeah?”

“As in 12 am, at midnight?”

Isak frowned in confusion, “I- think so?”

“Is your essay good enough to hand in right now?”

“What? Uhh-” Isak’s paper was so far from done. It was barely a draft, but- _Screw it_. It’s not like he’s making any progress here. “I haven’t edited this yet, but I guess it is good enough. More or less.”

Under the harsh fluorescent lights, Even’s grin had him looking slightly mad. The bruises under his eyes, clear indicators of a lack of sleep, only further emphasized his hot serial killer impression. It was at that moment, Isak realized, whatever ridiculous idea Even propose, he would follow with no questions asked.

“Print it out. Now.”

“Now?”

“Now,” Even leaned towards Isak’s laptop, pressing the Print button, “The first morning class is at half-past eight. We still have about three hours to sneak your paper into the old hag’s office. She won’t even know you’re late.”

_We_. Even said _we_. Isak stared at him, mouth slightly agape.

“Let’s go.” He threw the door open and strutted out, without looking back to check if Isak was following. Isak scrambled after him.

*

They were making their way across campus, pace brisk.

Isak tightened his hoodie against the late-night chill, starting to regret not taking a thicker jacket. Even was walking beside him, the hood of his jacket down for once, his wind-swept hair a mess of soft curls on top of his head.

There was a sense of electrifying urgency in the air. Isak couldn’t help but wonder if it was due to the prospect of getting caught, or if the redness on the tip of Even’s nose was the culprit. Wind-stung, and entirely kissable.

Considering that he hadn’t had a proper sleep in days, Isak was unexpectedly alert. Sensory inputs dialed up several notches, he was hypersensitive towards every single movement and sound in the dead of the night. There was a shadowy figure sprinting in the distance. Around the corner, a dim flash of light was moving along the pathway. Probably from the handheld torch of a patrolling guard. Against the quiet of the night, every contact of their sneakers against the stone-paved road sounded alarmingly loud.

They stopped in front of the building where the staffs’ offices reside. The front door was, as one would expect, locked.

Even beckoned him forward. Isak tailed him to the fire escape at the back of the building.

“Are you trying to set off the fire alarm?”

Even puffed out a chuckle, his breath condensed into tendrils of white smoke, before dissipating into the cold, “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

He then pulled out something that looked vaguely like a credit card from his jeans pocket, “If we get caught, just say we’re having a midnight stroll, and _you_ , are suddenly hit with a- a- a- What’s that called? Oh yes. A Eureka moment.” He slid the card into the gap of the door and pressed gently. There was a soft click. “And you need to borrow some reference books or something. Immediately. It’s all for science.” He then gave the door a gentle nudge, and the door sprang open. The alarm didn’t sound. Even beamed at him. It was blinding.

Isak huffed out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “But this is the staffs’ office, man. Not the library.”

“Semantics.” Even snickered, “Also. You’re on the verge of a major scientific breakthrough. If they are holding you responsible for this- little endeavour, then they are against science itself.”

Isak snorted, “What breakthrough.”

“You are the scientist. You tell me.”

“That’s not how science works.”

“It is now.”

They tiptoed their way into the building.

Apparently navigating your way through the long stretch of a corridor in complete darkness was harder than one would expect. He had been here countless times during daytime, but it was as if the lack of sunlight filtering through the window panes, as well as the absence of white noises from the bustling crowd of students rushing in and out of the building, robbed away Isak’s sense of direction. He couldn’t tell which door leads to the old hag’s office.

“Even? I can’t see. Do you, uh, have a flashlight or something?”

Even, standing right behind him, leaned forward to rest his chin on Isak’s shoulder.

Isak stiffened slightly. He could feel the ghosting warmth of Even’s breath as he whispered directly against the shell of his ear, “Shush. We are trying to be discreet here.” A shit-eating grin evident in his voice, “We just snuck into a highly secured building. This is dangerous work, Valtersan. It’s Mission Impossible. How can you suggest something as amateur as a cell-phone flashlight?”

Isak swallowed down the laughter bubbling up his throat, “ _What the fuck_ , Even. Do you have to be so dramatic all the time-”

“But isn’t this fun? Indulge me, will you?” He then pointed to the office door next to them, “Is it this one?”

Isak rolled his eyes, “I can see you are a professional at this.”

“Or that one?” He pointed to another door down the hallway.

“You think you’re so-” _Wait._ Isak squinted his eyes at the door next to them. He could vaguely make out the old hag’s name on the doorplate. “Fuck me. It _is_ this one.”

Even’s returning grin was priceless. “Oh shit, I’m good. My brilliance amazes me sometimes.”

In the resounding silence of the hallway, Isak felt a bit braver than usual. Perhaps the darkness lend him a sense of anonymity, or perhaps it’s the adrenaline rush from doing something illicit. He stood there, and for a few seconds, finally allowed himself to look. To really admire Even’s face. The cut of his cheekbone. The curve of those lips. That infuriating grin plastered on his face.

Isak would have no problem standing there, ogling at Even for a few more hours, if not for the urgency on hand. He turned away and slithered into the office before Even could catch him looking. Quickly locating the beige envelope used to collect the students’ papers, he slid in his own. Right in the middle of the collected pile.

Perfect. She wouldn’t even know he was late with this.

Then the fire alarm rang.

*

Next thing he knew, they were dashing across the grassy plains of the sports ground, laughing like lunatics as they ran.

Isak twisted his body around to look for any security guards who might be following. The one who spotted the two of them running out of the building was nowhere in sight.

Thank God for small mercies.

At least he could breathe a little easier tonight, no need to worry about consequences for his questionable actions. For now. Several steps ahead of him, Even was scaling the wall that separated the sports ground from the dormitories area. Using the lumpy stones on the wall as footsteps, he hauled himself to the top, and perched on the edge of the wall like a giant bird.

“Need a hand?” He extended a hand, waiting for Isak to latch on.

Isak grabbed his wrist, and he felt Even’s fingers locking around his in turn. Then Isak was heaved over the wall, except with way less grace then Even did.

When he jumped down to the other side, he stumbled from the force of gravity, and got knocked flat on his butt.

“Ow, fuck.”

Even wriggled his eyebrows at him, “Classy.”

“Why-” Isak tried to sound serious, but he was also smiling so wide he couldn’t stop, “on God’s green, wide earth, would the alarm bell ring? Really, did you set off the alarm, when you were- doing that thing- with the door?”

“I don’t know,” Even was leaning against the wall, breathing hard from the run. “Does it matter? We got away.”

His head was thrown back, the pale, long line of his neck exposed. A line of sweat glistening on the column of his throat.

“No. I suppose not.” Isak, too, sounded slightly breathless, even to his own ears. Though for an entirely different reason.

“We’ve earned ourselves some breakfast, don’t you think?”

“Pancakes?” He suggested tentatively.

“Ooh, you like my pancakes?” Even smirked at him, infuriatingly cocky, and infuriatingly adorable.

“I mean-“, Isak picked himself up from the ground, trying to work up some excuses. He really didn’t want to give Even anything else to hold against him. “They are- edible?”

“Admit it. You _love_ my pancakes.” That smirk was still on Even’s face, taunting him.

“Okay, fine.” He mumbled, trying to put as much reluctancy in his tone as possible, “They’re good.”

Isak wasn’t sure if they were still talking about pancakes, anymore.

*

“Do you have classes this morning?” Even was, once again, standing at the stove, flipping pancakes, with Isak sitting beside him on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah,” Isak deflated, “ _Fuck._ I do have one at eight-thirty. That’s- the ass-crack of dawn. Why do classes happen at such unreasonable hours, huh? Why can’t the professors wake up at, umm, 3 in the afternoon. Or something.”

Even raised an eyebrow at him, “Oh yeah. That’s not unreasonable at all. Most people wake up when the sun rises and go to bed before midnight, you still remember that?”

“Oh, so you are in the place to judge now. Just so you know, you look as dead as me. What’s your excuse?”

Even’s face lit up. “I was doing this film project with my friends. We’ve been trying to capture the night sky in Oslo.”

He then launched into a tirade about his film project. Something about an epic love story, where the stars represented time, and fate, and all that abstract bullshit. Isak found the one-sided conversation surprisingly pleasant, even though he was confused by more than half of what Even’s saying.

The pancakes were done. Even sprinkled on some finely granulated sugar and spread on spoonful of strawberry jam on the stacks. Then, he added on a finishing touch with a scope of sour scream at the side.

Isak glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 6 o’clock.

“Are you going to catch some sleep?” Even blurted out, suddenly changing the topic.

Isak paused, fork halfway to his mouth. Neck deep in schoolwork, he almost forgot about his chronic insomnia.

“Nei, screw sleep. Rest is for the weak.”

Even hummed around a mouthful of jam and pancakes, “Same here, Isak. You need to know this, since we share a room and all.” He took a deep breath, insufferably dramatic, “The truth is, I don’t do sleep.”

“Oh?” Isak frowned into his pancakes. Could Even be suffering from insomnia as well?

“ ‘Cause sleep is the cousin of death.”

Isak snorted so hard, he could almost feel bits of pancakes coming out from his nose.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may be wondering oooh did you ever, actually, break into the staffs' office after hours? Well. *shifty eyes* Perhaps?  
> Anyways I promised myself I'd update on Monday. And here we are, 3 days late. I really am hopeless at self-imposed deadlines y'all. Please forgive me akdhgcksjhdvk

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to keep a regular posting schedule, probably once a week. 
> 
> Here's my [Tumblr](https://miraclesafterdark.tumblr.com/about). I'm too lazy to post anything, but in theory you can contact me there. :D


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